Today’s my first full day back at work. Things were gong along swimmingly until about 9:30am. I was watching Nico watching me as he held on to the back of his chair. I knew he was waiting for me to look away so he could practice a few steps. I obliged, and looked down at the marketing book in my lap (I was doing a quick market analysis of a company before I started drafting their sales letters). I looked up in time to see him land bum-first on the ground. He must have hit his face on the chair as he fell, because when he turned to look at me his chin, chest, hands, and arms were covered in blood. For one split second I watched, shocked, as his little heart pulsed a few beats of blood from his mouth like the last tablespoon or so of ketchup in a squeeze bottle. Squirt. Squirt.
I picked him up and ran to the kitchen. Squirt. Squirt.
He looked at me with those big Hershey’s Kisses eyes and smiled a bloody, toothy grin–like one of those deranged hockey players thrilled to have picked up another red badge of athletic prowess. Squirt. Squirt.
Eight saturated paper towels later, I decided to take a peek inside his mouth. I thought his upper lip was caught on his teeth, so I called the doctor and they had me come right in. Unfortunately, my fiddling with his mouth opened everything up and he started bleeding again. Thankfully it slowed down quickly, and by the time Nico and I got there the bleeding was nothing more than a fuschia tinged saliva–slow enough that the doctor could pull away his lip and look inside.
(Paper Towel No. 9)
The best part of all of this? Nico’s attitude. Other than the initial crying over the pain (which wasn’t much and lasted all of ten seconds) the only thing that really got him upset was when I told him he couldn’t eat the paper towels. His response when I pried them away from him was priceless. For the amount of tears he shed you would have thought he, oh, I don’t know, ripped his frenulum. It turns out the missed opportunity to ingest Bounty is a far greater tragedy.
(Reason No. 342 why life isn’t fair: They don’t let me eat paper towels.)
OH my GOSH- isn’t it amazing how resilient kids are- even when gushing blood (luckily they don’t know enough to be freaked out by it like us parents are!)
I hope your day goes more smoothly tomorrow!!
OMG! I almost cry looking his face!
Your boy is a trooper ;) sure will be super great tomorrow.
Thanks, girls! I just happened to have the camera on the counter so I grabbed it. He was all smiles and having a great time with the paper towels–but OH MY when I took them away he was furious.
I have to admit I did let him play with them some more for just a second (until he tried to eat them again). How can I resist those eyes and that angel face? I can’t. :)
This is why I would be a bad mother. If those eyes looked at me with those crocodile tears I would let him eat a car if he wanted to.
What a sweet sweet boy!
Oh ouch! Poor little guy.
What a cutie, though, hun? I have a little guy with chocolate eyes too.
You crack me up – I’ve been enjoying your comments on Decorno, and just had to check out your blog and I almost peed in my pants. You are such a great writer! I admit…I had to google Occam’s Razor…but when I did, I totally got it – you are so clever! I have an almost 17month old little boy who cannot (or at least refuses) to hold a sippy cup. In fact, he didn’t transition from a bottle till a few weeks ago when I started noticing that his daycare kept talking about cups. Crap I thought – I need to get with the program. Doesn’t matter. I let go of the cup and it falls on the floor and he cries. Anyway, LOVE your blog – I’ve only read the last 3 posts but I’m looking forward to reading more with my second glass of wine…it is 6:05 pm after all…
Ooof, that picture brings to mind a bloody-mouth memory of my own, wherein my then two-year-old son down some wooden steps, his bottom teeth lodging impossibly during the tumble, causing the bony ridge to which they are attached to fracture. They had to extract 3 teeth and reattach the bony ridge, and hopefully his permanent teeth will grow in at the right time. But oh, the fright and all that blood. Carey said it, they don’t know enough to freak out… my older sons took their freak-out cues from me, but the tot was mellow as I raced him to the ER that night.
mrlfvl–Well, hello there! Second glass of wine? That’s why you’re enjoying my blog! I find it takes a solid buzz to get through most of my bitching and moaning. ;)
soup–Oof is right! That sounds much more serious than my little guy. We didn’t even have to go the hospital. I hope his teeth grow in ok! :)
Oh my gosh!! Poor little guy! It is so hard to go through that stuff as a parent. I wonder sometimes if it hurts us more than them. Either way, nothing heals like a mother’s kiss!
oh! little dudes!